Spider in the Shower
by AnorexicWalrus
Summary: Arthur is just settling down to relax when he hears Alfred emit a blood-curdling scream. What could be the matter?


**Spider in the Shower**

Arthur loved settling down and drinking tea. It was such a soothing pastime, and he certainly needed it, what with the chaotic life he lived. Yes, he loved nothing better than to settle down amongst the plush pillows on his cosy armchair, Earl Grey in one hand and the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in the other, just to help him unwind and become sane again, and help him face another day. And since his partner, Alfred, who was the main cause of the chaos in his life, was in the shower at that precise moment, Arthur decided that there was no better time for tea.

And so, Arthur sat in his comfy armchair with piping tea and an interesting book, and expected a good, long unwinding session, for Alfred did tend to take ever so long in the shower. He even sang in there, most of the time, and although his voice wasn't the best, Arthur managed to get so riveted by the book at hand that most of the time the wail of Disney songs was just a dull drone in the background, accompanied by the chirping birds and revving cars. However, what Arthur failed to ignore coming from the upstairs bathroom was not a wail, but a high-pitched, blood-curdling stream.

Quick as a flash, Arthur set down his tea and book and jumped up from the armchair, and he hurried to the stairs. As he made his way up the flight of stairs, he feared the worst: Alfred had fallen; Alfred had cut himself; Francis was climbing in through the bathroom window to prey on vulnerable, naked Alfred. Arthur burst through the bedroom door, pelting towards their en-suite, and upon reaching the door he jiggled the handle, but alas, it was locked. Arthur cursed under his breath. Why did Alfred always lock the door? To prevent Arthur getting in? Arthur had seen him naked so many times – he was his bloody boyfriend, for Christ's sake! This was exactly why Arthur hated locking doors, because now Alfred was in trouble of some sort and Arthur couldn't get to him.

Arthur began banging the door with his clenched fist, and hollering, "Alfred! Alfred, are you okay in there?! Speak to me, Alfred!" He really hoped Alfred wasn't unconscious. What if he'd slipped on the soap, and fallen, and cracked his head on the tiles, and was unmoving and losing a hell of a lot of blood and needed medical attention right that instant and…"Alfred! Alf-!"

But Arthur's cries were cut off as the door swung open, smacked him in the face, and Alfred burst from it, yelling, with shampoo bubbles coating his hair, and nothing else to coat his stark naked body. Arthur rubbed his injured cheek, which was certain to bruise, watching in bewilderment as the American jumped onto the bed and curled up in a ball, rocking as if insane, with his bottom lip quivering.

"Alfred?" Arthur breathed, "What the bloody-?"

"Spider!" Alfred cried at Arthur, shivering, though Arthur knew not whether it was from fear or cold.

"What?"

"Spider!" Alfred repeated, nodding towards the door he just burst from, "In the shower! It's going to kill me!"

There was a pregnant pause where Arthur tried to comprehend the situation, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. It was far too ridiculous. Alfred, a grown man, with strength like none he'd ever witnessed, was afraid of a little spider? That couldn't be right.

"Spider?" Arthur asked for clarification. Alfred nodded.

"Huge one."

"In the shower?"

"Yeah!" Alfred replied, "Just sitting there, watching me with its multiple beady eyes, waiting for a chance to strike and ensnare me in its deadly web of death! It's really freaky, Arthur! Kill it! Kill it with fire!"

Another pregnant pause, where Arthur tried to comprehend the situation once more; but, once more, he couldn't. Instead, he just came to the conclusion that Alfred was a moron. Actually, he already knew that – he was just reminding himself of that little fact.

"You gave me a heart attack for _that_?! Wanker!" Arthur cried, storming into the bathroom, "Bloody wanker!" He located the spider in the shower, and yes, it wasn't as small as a money spider, with its long, spindly legs and somewhat plump, black body, but it also wasn't as large as those Australian spiders he had heard about. For goodness sake! Alfred was so insufferable sometimes. He was so irritated with the man that he didn't even bother taking it upon himself to be gentle with the spider, and instead grasped it in his clutches in a less-than-tender way, opened the window, and unceremoniously threw it out. Then he closed the window, dusted off his hands, and returned to the bedroom where Alfred remained cowering on the bed.

"It's gone." Arthur sighed, "I kicked it out."

The look that appeared on Alfred's face was so full of adoration that any other time Arthur would have felt like a king, but, under the circumstances, Alfred's shining eyes of cerulean and dopey smile pissed him off so much. "Artie! You're my hero! I love you! I absolutely lo-!" But Alfred didn't get to finish his love confession, as Arthur had strode over and knocked him upside the head quite roughly.

"Get in there and wash that shampoo out of your hair! And stop being such a bloody idiot! I swear, I must have the patience of a saint for you, for God's sake!" Alfred tearfully rubbed his abused head and sauntered back into the bathroom, ashamedly. "And don't lock the door, moron! I was worried bloody sick!"

Arthur then stormed out of the bedroom, back downstairs, muttering profanities under his breath and mumbling to himself about Alfred's stupidity and how he's all talk about being a hero and why in the world did he ever worry about that man? And then he settled back down in his comfy armchair, ready to relax, finally. But as he lifted his tea to his lips, he groaned inwardly, for no longer was it piping hot, but stone cold, and he cursed anything and everything, especially Alfred, as he went to the kitchen to make a new cup, so that he could get some time to unwind before Alfred finished his shower, because God knew he needed it.

Arthur loved settling down and drinking tea. It was such a soothing pastime, and he certainly needed it, what with the chaotic life he lived. Yes, he loved nothing better than to settle down amongst the plush pillows on his cosy armchair, Earl Grey in one hand and the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in the other, just to help him unwind and become sane again, and help him face another day. Alas, he seldom got to do it.

* * *

**Author's notes: Another beautiful idea from pie1313. Not the usual lovey-dovey fluff I write, but it was so funny an idea that I couldn't resist. And this is actually another of my headcanons. Oh, Alfred~ You really are all talk, aren't you? And oh, poor Arthur, having to put up with him. But if Arthur didn't, who would?  
Critique is welcomed, comments are appreciated!  
Thank you and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Alfred and Arthur belong to Hidekaz Himaruya**

**AnorexicWalrus~**


End file.
